No Time for Lullabies (The No Brides Club Book 2)

by Sydney Logan

  “Dreams change.”

  She bowed her head. Brody could tell by the expression on her face that she was feeling guilty. That she was blaming herself for the fact that he would never be a husband or a father—two things that were so important to him when they were young. And honestly, she was to blame for that, because the truth was . . . unless he could be her husband, and unless he could be the father to their children, he just wasn’t interested.

  “I’m sorry, Brody.”

  “Don’t be. If I still wanted those things, I could have them.”

  “You don’t want them?”

  “No, Mel. I stopped wanting them a long time ago.”

  “Because of me.”

  Throughout the conversation, their bodies had drifted closer, so close that he could see the flecks of gold in her green eyes. Millions of memories flooded his mind. Memories of first kisses and first dates and first everything. Memories of backseats and truck beds and haylofts.

  “What do you want me to say, Mel?” he said softly. “That you didn’t break my heart? That my life has gone on just fine without you?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I just want you to say that you’re happy and that I didn’t completely ruin your life.”

  “I’m happy, and you didn’t completely ruin my life.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  He chuckled. “So, I said exactly what you wanted to hear, and you’re still not satisfied. Some things never change.”

  Melody shook her head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here.”

  “Why did you come here?”

  “Because I can’t stop thinking about you,” she whispered, her eyes locking with his. “Do you think about me?”

  Every minute of every day of my life.

  But he didn’t say that. Instead, he tenderly cupped her cheek, causing her to gasp.

  “I think of you every time it rains,” he said softly.

  Without thinking of the consequences, Brody leaned close and brushed his lips against hers. With a quiet whimper, Melody melted in his arms.

  When they finally came up for air, Melody gazed at him with her deep green eyes. She didn’t have to say she regretted the kiss. After all this time, he could still read her like a book. He could tell by the look on her face that she was going to run.

  Always running.

  “I’m sorry, Brody.”

  He forced a smile. “I should be the one apologizing. I kissed you.”

  “I wanted you to.”

  “And I wanted to. But it shouldn’t have happened. So, I’m sorry.”

  Melody nodded and stood up from the couch. He watched as she walked slowly toward the door. She opened it and looked out into the night.

  “Storm’s over,” she said.

  Sighing heavily, Brody joined her at the door. She was right. All that was left of the storm was a calm, gentle rain.

  “Storms are like that,” he said. “Just passing through. Never staying long.”

  “But powerful.”

  They both knew they weren’t talking about the storm anymore.

  “Goodnight, Brody.”

  “Goodnight, Melody.”

  As she drove away, he couldn’t help but think she was right.

  Hurricane Melody had blown into town.

  Powerful and beautiful.

  And gone by morning.

  Chapter 7

  “I ’m proud of you, Melody. You almost made it a full week in Meadow Creek.”

  Melody leafed through the mail on her desk. “I appreciate you switching my flight. I know it was kind of last minute.”

  “No problem. That’s what I’m here for.”

  With a deep sigh, Melody sat down at her desk and buried her face in her hands. She was exhausted. The trip home had been hard enough. Now she had extra stress—like the fact that she was probably going to be a mother. Not to mention the fact that she kissed her ex-boyfriend. Oh, and she disappointed her parents again by cutting her visit short.

  Melody needed a real vacation.

  With drinks. Lots of drinks.

  That’s another great thing about coming home early. She wouldn’t miss tonight’s meeting of the No Brides Club. She’d already alerted the girls that she was back in town, and that she had some news.

  Speaking of which . . .

  “Claire, could we talk?”

  Her assistant’s face turned ashen as she sat down in the chair across Melody’s desk.

  “Am I fired?”

  Melody blinked. “What? No!”

  Claire breathed a sigh of relief.

  “I couldn’t make it without you, Claire. I mean that.”

  “Thank you. I love working here. And with you, obviously.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. But, have you been worried about your job?”

  She shrugged. “I just know that my mind’s been preoccupied with the baby. I’m still trying to get back into the groove around here.”

  “You’ve been great. I am amazed how well you juggle everything.”

  Claire beamed.

  “I . . . may need pointers on how you do that.”

  “How I . . .

  “Juggle everything. Baby. Work. How you handle it all without completely losing your mind.”

  Claire’s eyes widened. “Oh! Are you . . .”

  “No, I’m not pregnant. But I have some news. This isn’t work related, Claire. This is . . . personal.”

  “I understand. What’s up?”

  Melody told her all about Trish’s will and the guardianship. By the time she was finished, tears were rolling down Claire’s cheeks.

  “You’re going to be a mother.”

  “It seems so, yes.”

  “You don’t sound happy.”

  “I’m scared to death.”

  “Well, of course you are! It’s terrifying knowing that this little person is your responsibility. You have to clothe her and feed her and take care of her every need until she turns eighteen. It’s absolutely terrifying!”

  “Thanks a lot, Claire.”

  “But,” Claire said softly, “it’s also the most amazing, wonderful feeling in the whole world. Your life is going to completely change.”

  “That scares me, too. I love my life. I love my job. Love my friends. Love only taking care of me. I never planned on sharing my life with anyone else. I’d given up on that dream a long time ago.”

  “Dreams change.”

  It was like a knife to her heart. Those were the same words Brody had said just last night.

  “What do you need from me?” Claire asked.

  “I still haven’t decided if I’m doing this, but I need to be prepared.”

  “Well, the first thing you’ll need to do is baby proof the apartment. Get a crib. Decorate the nursery! Have you thought about themes? Colors?”

  “Umm . . . no?” Melody thought hard. “Maybe giraffes? Macy has this—”

  “Macy! Is that her name?”

  Melody grinned and fished her phone out of her bag. She found the selfie she’d taken of the two of them on her parents’ living room floor.

  “Oh, Melody, she’s beautiful. She looks just like you!”

  “Her mom and I looked a lot alike. Same dark hair. Same complexion.”

  Melody gazed at the picture for a long time before placing the phone on her desk. When she looked up, Claire was smiling at her with a dreamy expression on her face.

  “Anyway,” she said. “Macy has this giraffe teething ring. So maybe something . . . giraffy?”

  “Giraffy. Got it. What else do you need?”

  “Call my lawyer and tell her I need to talk to her as soon as possible. I may need help navigating all the legalities of this. I like Troy—he’s Trish’s lawyer—but I need to at least tell my personal attorney what’s going on.”

  “Will do. And what about baby-proofing the apartment?”

  “I’m clueless. Can I give you my credit card and you do whatever you need to do?”

&nbs
p; “Not a problem.”

  “Great. Thanks, Claire.” Melody glanced at the time and grabbed her bag before heading for the door. “I need to get to the tavern. Text me if you need anything?”

  “You got it. And Melody?”

  “Yeah?”

  She turned to find her assistant right behind her, smiling brightly.

  “You’re going to be a great mom.”

  “I still haven’t decided—”

  “Yes, you have,” Claire said softly. “I could tell by the way you gazed at that little girl’s picture. You’ve decided. Your heart knows it. It’s just taking your brain a little bit to catch up. But it will. And you’re going to be great.”

  Melody hugged her friend.

  “Thank you, Claire.”

  * * *

  Melody breathed a sigh of relief when she stepped into Briarwood Tavern. The place was crazy busy, of course, but there was something deeply comforting about the leather banquettes and the dark wood of the dimly lit restaurant.

  This felt normal.

  This felt like home.

  She headed to their usual table and found the girls waiting for her.

  “You said you had news so I took the liberty of ordering drinks,” Kinsley said, greeting her with a hug. “And I told him to keep ‘em coming.”

  “Good thinking.”

  Melody quickly hugged Georgie, Rachel, Kate, and Julie before slipping into the booth and grabbing the nearest cocktail.

  “Let’s hear it,” Kinsley said, always eager to get right to it.

  “You guys first.”

  “NO!” The girls yelled in unison.

  Melody mouthed an apology to a nearby table and swallowed her drink.

  “Okay, so, you know I went home for my cousin’s funeral.”

  The ladies nodded.

  “She has a nine-month-old little girl named Macy.” She grabbed her phone out of her bag and showed them the selfie.

  “Oh, she’s adorable!” Rachel said.

  Georgie nodded. “So cute.”

  “She looks so much like you, Mel!” Kate said excitedly.

  “She really does,” Julie said with a nod.

  The waiter arrived with another round. Melody smiled gratefully at him and reached for another glass.

  “Go on,” Kinsley said in encouragement. “Cute kid. Looks just like you. What about her?”

  “She’s mine.”

  The table fell silent.

  Melody downed her drink.

  “What do you mean she’s yours?” Kinsley asked.

  “Trish left her to me. In her will. Gave me her baby.”

  “Can she do that?” Julie asked. “I mean, is this a thing? Do people actually do that?”

  “Yep.”

  “And you have to take her?” Rachel asked.

  “I don’t have to. But if I refuse, she goes into foster care.”

  “Okay, hang on,” Georgie said, motioning to the waiter. He was there in an instant.

  “Another round?” he asked.

  “Yes,” the ladies replied in unison.

  “And some menus,” Kate said. “We’re going to need some food.”

  For the next two hours, Melody told her friends all about Macy and the guardianship. And, because they were her best friends, she told them about Brody and the kiss. By the time dessert came, there wasn’t a dry eye at the table.

  “You’re going to be a mom,” Rachel said softly.

  Kinsley gazed at her best friend. “But only if you want to be. You can say no, Melody. You know that, right?”

  All the girls were close, but Kinsley and Melody shared a special bond that extended beyond the No Brides Club. They were close as sisters, and Kinsley was honest to a fault. Melody was terrified, and Kinsley knew it.

  “The thing is, Kins, I don’t think I can. I don’t think I could live with myself if I say no. Because saying no sends that beautiful little girl into the foster care system.”

  “It’s not all bad, Mel.”

  “It’s not all good, either. I just don’t think I can take that chance.” Melody sighed softly. “Claire’s right. My heart’s decided. I just have to give my brain time to catch up.”

  “And what does your heart say?” Georgie asked.

  The ladies leaned in.

  “My heart says . . . you’re all going to be aunts.”

  The girls squealed with delight and ordered another round.

  * * *

  The next morning, Melody was awakened by a persistent pounding on her door. With a groan, she reached for her phone and opened one eye to check the time. It was just after eight, and she already had six missed calls.

  With a sigh, Melody climbed out of bed and tied her robe around her waist.

  “Whoever’s banging on my door better be holding a coffee the size of my head,” she muttered tiredly as she walked into the living room. Melody peeked through the peep hole and sighed tiredly before opening the door.

  “Good morning!” Claire floated into the room like a Disney princess. “And here you go.”

  She handed Melody the large coffee.

  “Thank you. Now, why are you here?”

  “What do you mean? You sent me a text late last night and said we’re working at home today. So, here I am,” Claire said, smiling brightly. “I thought I’d scope out the guest room. Measure for a crib. Do a little baby proofing.”

  “No. I said I’m working from home today. And I will. Just as soon as I wake up. Which I didn’t plan on doing until noon or so.”

  Claire frowned. “Oh. I misunderstood.”

  “Yeah.” Melody sighed. “But you’re here now, so—”

  Claire took the coffee out of her hand. “Give me the caffeine. Go to bed. Pretend I’m not here.”

  “Really? Because I could use a few more hours of sleep.”

  “No problem,” Claire said. “I’ll do what I need to do and then hit the stores.”

  “Thanks.”

  Melody hugged her assistant before heading back to her bedroom. Closing the door behind her, she let her robe fall to the floor and climbed into bed. She’d just gotten comfortable when she heard her phone vibrate on the nightstand. Groaning tiredly, she reached for her cell and glanced at the screen.

  Eight missed calls.

  “All I wanted to do was sleep in,” she muttered to herself.

  Melody didn’t drink much, but when she did, she paid for it, and she was paying for it this morning. Between Claire’s cheery disposition and the eight missed calls, Melody was sure she was being punished.

  She scrolled through her voice mail and listened to the first message.

  “Melody, this is Troy Tucker. We have a situation regarding Macy that needs your immediate attention. Please give me a call as soon as possible.”

  Is something wrong with the baby?

  She bolted up in bed. With trembling fingers and a thundering heart, Melody called the lawyer. The receptionist answered on the first ring.

  “Tucker and Associates.”

  “This is Melody Mitchell calling for Troy. It’s urgent.”

  “Of course, Miss Mitchell. He’s been expecting your call. One moment.”

  Closing her eyes, Melody took long, steadying breaths. By the time she heard Troy’s voice, she was near tears.

  “Good morning, Melody.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “There’s been a . . . development.”

  “What kind of development?”

  “Macy’s temporary guardian has suffered a heart attack.”

  “But Macy’s okay?”

  “Oh, yes, Macy’s just fine.”

  Melody sighed with relief. “I’m sorry to hear about the guardian. Is she going to be okay?”

  “The doctors aren’t optimistic.”

  “That’s awful.”

  “It is. She’s a lovely woman.”

  “I’m sure she is,” Melody said softly. “Mr. Tucker, what does this mean for Macy?”

  “I’m afrai
d it means that you’re going to have to make a decision about Macy sooner than we thought. Our temporary guardians are all at capacity. If your answer is no, we need to start the process of placing Macy in the system and finding her a foster home.”

  “So, I need to decide this week?”

  Mr. Tucker sighed.

  “No, Melody. You need to decide this weekend.”

  She shook her head. “Mr. Tucker, my apartment isn’t ready for a baby.”

  “I know, and I apologize. But if your answer is yes, we can fast track the paperwork so that Macy has a home as soon as possible. I don’t mean to put more pressure on you, but it would be helpful if you could fly back to Meadow Creek so that we can sort this out and go before the judge . . . if your answer is yes.”

  Melody’s head was spinning. Her apartment wasn’t baby proofed. She didn’t have a crib. She didn’t have a nanny.

  She wasn’t ready.

  “Melody? You still there?”

  With the attorney still on the phone, she opened her photos and scrolled until she found the picture of Macy. The little girl’s piercing eyes stared back at her through the screen, and in that moment, Melody realized all her excuses were simply that.

  Excuses.

  That little girl needed a home, and Melody was going to give her one.

  Whether she was ready or not.

  “I’m on my way,” Melody said.

  Chapter 8

  T he four-hour flight to Meadow Creek gave Melody too much time to think, which was something she’d tried to avoid for the past two days. If she slowed down long enough, she’d have to think about becoming a mother. She’d also have to think about that kiss.

  Melody had tried desperately not to think about it.

  She still didn’t know what possessed her to drive to Brody’s house during that storm. She hated storms. Always had. Growing up, she used to throw the blanket over her head with the house phone attached to her ear. On the other end of the line was always Brody, telling her everything was going to be okay.

  And it always was.

  She supposed it was simply instinct—with lightning crackling in her bedroom window and thunder rolling overhead—that made her want to hear his voice. Brody had given her his card with his phone number, but then she’d noticed his home address and realized he only lived about ten minutes away.

  Suddenly, a text wasn’t good enough. She had to see him.